


Of Cat Beds and Annoying Brothers

by Aida



Series: John Watson is Dr. Dolittle [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, John Watson is Dr. Dolittle, John isn't THAT crazy, The sequel that probably shouldn't have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aida/pseuds/Aida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Please tell me Sherlock didn’t give you that.” </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“No, no. Your lovely landlady gave this gawdy thing to me.” </i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>In which Sherlock actually goes shopping, John has rules, Mycroft is a prick but means well, and Cass does not want.</p>
<p>AKA: An actual sequel to this nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Supplies...

**Author's Note:**

> The little bug of "John can talk to animals" would not go away, so I decided to write another! I apologize if someone's OOC, but it's crack, people.

The next day, Sherlock seemed to have taken what John said to heart. As soon as John entered the kitchen that morning to make breakfast, he left the flat to go get supplies. Since then, Cass busied herself with getting familiar with her new, enclosed surroundings. Sometimes she called out to John when she found something particularly arresting.

“He has a concerning amount of books on poisons, John.”

“I hope he knows that I don’t care how fragile his equipment is. If it’s in my way, I’m knocking it down!”

“John, is that a _riding crop_!?”

Despite her comments and quips, John ignored her in favor of enjoying his day off by having breakfast and writing a new blog entry. He only paid attention when Mrs. Hudson came up and found her, then preceded to coo and coddle her.

“I don’t like to be held, John!” Cass complained while in Mrs. Hudson’s arms. “You know this! Plus, she smells kind of funny!”

John, of course, ignored her as he talked to Mrs. Hudson, which was hard to do since sometimes they talked over each other. After some more coddling, Mrs. Hudson then proceeded to examine the kitchen, to tidy and make sure nothing was broken, and she left.

“You ignored me that whole time, John.” Cass stated as she leapt up on the table to sit next to his computer. “That wasn’t polite.”

“I couldn’t necessarily address you with Mrs. Hudson in the room.” John said simply, brow furrowing as he stared at the screen. “She’d find it a wee bit strange.”

“You know, that’s the problem with you humans.” Cass stated, sniffing at his now-lukewarm tea. “Whenever someone’s different, or unique, you ostracize them immediately. Us animals are more carefree.”

John snorted. 

“What, don’t believe me?” She inquired as she rested her chin on the edge of his computer screen. “Fine then. Name one thing that makes us the same, or worse.”

“If your young are touched from someone on the outside, you eat them or neglect them completely.” John stated simply. “Not to mention some animals with supposed defects are rejected from their packs.”

“I didn’t eat my young!” Cass protested. “Plus, those are rodents! And wolves…”

John just gave her a look. 

“Fine, fine.” Cass said after a moment. “We each have our problems. Maybe I’m biased, but I don’t see why people would make a big deal out of you.”

“There aren’t a lot of people who can talk to animals.” John stated simply. “Anyone who heard that I could would think I’ve had a psychotic break.”

“Not Sherlock…” Cass murmured, getting another look from John. “Okay, okay. No telling your _friend_ and _flatmate_ that you’re _gifted ___.”

John fought back the urge to scoff at her. Granted, yes, being able to communicate with animals was something that people could see as a gift, but in general, people just thought of it as being part of a mental illness or a brain tumor. Of course, John went through all the tests before the war, and he was deemed absolutely fine. Still, it was best not to draw attention to it, or things could become problematic.

“That should be a rule…” John muttered as he continued typing away. 

“Wassat?” Cass inquired as she stretched out as much as she could on the table, knocking some old papers aside and not caring in the slightest.

John sighed, standing to clean up her mess. “A rule.” He stated more clearly. “Aside from the general rules that you’ll have to abide if you’re living here, there’s going to be rules between us.”

“Like what?”

“Like talking.” John said, stacking the files out of Cass’s current lounge spot. “I can’t respond to you if someone’s in the room. Or in the next room.”

Cass sat up slightly. “Isn’t that excessive?”

“Basically, if someone could hear us, don’t expect me to talk to you.” John said firmly. 

Cass seemed to heave a great sigh. “As long as you don’t use that ridiculous baby talk.” She replied. “There’s only so much a girl can take.”

“Have I ever addressed you like that?” John asked as he sat back down to work.

“Only when you want to piss me off.” She replied, and John couldn’t help but grin at that.

“All right.” John said. “No baby talk, and no behavior that could cause it to be discovered. If you’re good on that, I’ll even see if I can get Sherlock to give you something fishy.”

Cass perked. “Like tuna?”

“Maybe, but not everyday.” John continued. “Just every once in a while.”

“He’s going to make me eat that generic stuff, isn’t he? Those brown dried bits and that mush…” Cass groused as she rolled over. “I guess it’s not too bad. Steady meals every day and all. Plus, I got a home now… and I never had a home before…”

John felt something claw at his chest as he paused, turning to the calico as she looked at him. He couldn’t help but grin. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” She breathed, then purring when John reached over to scratch at her head. When he retreated back to his writing, she immediately protested. “Hey, what’s the deal? You’re not done! We were having a moment! You should do my ears next…”

John was about to retort when he heard the door open and close. “Go bother Sherlock for that.”

“Oh my god, _finally_!” She cried, leaping off the table and running off, and John couldn’t help but chuckle at the chaos that seemed to erupt downstairs.

“John! Cass is downstairs! She could’ve run off!”

“As if I’d run off, you tall, gangly, pretty-boy! Now what did you get me?”

“Help me bring these things up, John!”

“A cat bed? You think I’ll sleep in that thing? I’d rather sleep in a _flower bed_! This isn’t going to stop me from sleeping in the actual beds! Besides, it’s _plaid_!”

John couldn't help but snort at the commotion going on downstairs. He was half tempted to leave Sherlock to deal with everything on his own as payback for all the times he had to carry things up on his own, but he thought better of it. Instead, he stood and headed downstairs to assist Sherlock in carrying up his overabundance in cat things.

Most of the bulk was caused by the copious amount of fake mice, and John didn't know why he wasn't as surprised as he should be.


	2. ... And Nosy Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock is a perch and Mycroft drops by.

After putting all of the new cat things in order, John was surprised at how settled Sherlock and Cass quickly became. After knowing each other for barely twelve hours, they moved in perfect sync. When Cass wasn’t busy pestering John, she’d be by Sherlock’s side as he worked on his (or John’s) laptop, or on his experiments. At first, he was worried that Sherlock would grow frustrated with her presence and soon decide that keeping her would be a bad idea.

He was quite all right with being wrong.

Sherlock didn’t mind her presence, and in fact seemed to enjoy it. She would either sit on the nearest flat surface, or laid out across his shoulders, watching him from her perch. He would merely scratch at her head or adjust his shoulders to make both of them as comfortable as possible. After a moment, he’d pause to murmur to her, accepting the feline as a new member of his audience. Of course, he’d still talk to John, but the doctor would find that Cass was usually present during the conversations. At first, he’d have to fight down the urge to laugh since Sherlock would be trying to have serious conversations with him as Cass butted her head against his chin, but after a while it was easy to get used to.

Of course, since there was a change at Baker Street, the elder Holmes had to make an appearance to approve of the new resident.

John was returning home from the store, since Sherlock didn’t buy groceries when he was on his cat supplies run, when he saw the sleek black car parked outside. He immediately fought the urge to groan, and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to face. 

When he finally entered the flat, he was greeted by the sight of a perturbed Cass itching at a bright pink collar around her neck, a tiny bell jingling about with each scratch of her hind leg.

“Please tell me Sherlock didn’t give you that.” John said, worried that Sherlock had finally lost his mind. 

“No, no. Your lovely landlady gave this gawdy thing to me.” Cass replied, shaking her shoulders and staring down at John. “I hope there’s tuna in there. I need it for what I’ve been putting up with these past fifteen minutes!”

“What happened?” John asked as he marched upstairs.

“Oh, Sherlock’s lovely brother’s here, and I can see why he hates him.” Cass stated. “I swear, John. If he references my street life one more time…!”

“Oh, Mycroft! Hello!” John said, cutting Cass off. “I saw your car outside.”

“Hello, Dr. Watson.” Mycroft greeted from his position in John’s armchair. “I was just having a conversation with Sherlock-.”

“He wants us to get rid of the cat, John.” Sherlock cut in, obviously displeased. 

John felt himself freeze at that. He knew Mycroft probably wouldn’t approve of them taking in a stray at first, but he didn’t think that he wouldn’t at least try to warm up to the idea. 

One of Mycroft’s well-groomed eyebrows twitched. “I never said that.”

“You were thinking it.”

Another twitch. “I was merely suggesting that, if you wanted a feline companion so badly, perhaps purchasing one from a reputable breeder would be more suited.”

“You see what I’ve been dealing with?” Cass hissed as she scratched at her collar again.

“See, Sherlock?” Mycroft said, motioning to the slightly distressed cat. “She hasn’t ceased her scratching since I’ve entered your flat. Obviously she’s suffering from some parasite.”

“She just doesn’t like the collar.” John put in, setting the bags aside and finally relieving Cass of her burden.

“Oh, sweet jesus! Thank you!” Cass breathed, shaking out again and prancing over towards Sherlock, jumping up and settling herself at the top of his chair.

“As for your suggestions, Mycroft,” John continued, picking up the bags again. “They’re appreciated, but we’re quite alright with our choice. There’s already an abundance of strays in London. Us taking in Cass makes the number lessen by one.”

“I can understand the point you’re making.” Mycroft said slowly. “And while your activism is inspiring, I really don’t think that-.”

“She’s mine, Mycroft.” John finally said, voice stern and evoking a tone that he hadn’t used since Afghanistan. “I don’t want some fancy purebred. I want Cass. Your brother has nothing to do with my decision.”

Sherlock and Cass both stared at him. Cass seemed pleased as punch, while Sherlock’s own lips seemed to twitch in amusement.

“Is that so?” Mycroft finally asked, his umbrella twirling in his hand. 

“Yes.” John said, faltering only slightly. “Now, if that’s your only business here, then you may leave. I’m sure there are more pressing government matters you have to take care of. I highly doubt our new cat is more important than they are. If you really think they are, then I’m seriously concerned about our future in politics.”

Mycroft’s lips pursed as he seemed to mull this all over. Eventually, he let out a breath, resigned, as he then stood. “Very well.” He said. “My opinions obviously don’t matter. I shall take my leave. Good day, Dr. Watson. I’ll be seeing you another time, Sherlock.”

With that, he headed for the door, only to pause for a moment.

“Oh,” He said, lips pulled up in a cold smile. “I really suggest giving your little… friend there a bath.”

With that, he finally headed down the stairs and left through the front door. 

“’Your cat’?” Sherlock finally asked. “If I do recall, I was the one who pressed the issue of letting Cass stay here.”

John shrugged, taking the groceries into the kitchen. “I figured if he thought it was more my decision, he’d be less pressed to try and get rid of her.” He stated. “Besides, it’s not like he lives here with her. He doesn’t know her like we do.”

Sherlock’s lips pulled into a grin as he scratched at Cass’s ear, causing her to purr. 

“I… appreciate that, John.” He finally said slowly. “Although your speech on politics wasn’t needed, you did very well at getting rid of my brother.”

“Yeah,” Cass said, eyes twinkling and warm. “Thank you, John.”

John felt his face heat, and he ducked his head as he continued putting things away. It was the closest Sherlock had ever gotten to saying “thank you” to him. That, on top of Cass’s straight response, he felt almost embarrassed.

“That’s what friends are for.” John said eventually, causing Sherlock’s grin to broaden. “Now, who wants tea?”

**Author's Note:**

> First of two chapters is complete! Up next: Mycroft doesn't like stray cats, and thinks Cass has fleas. She doesn't, but she doesn't like Mrs. Hudson's gift.


End file.
